Between the Gloss and the Reality
by 00Derezzed00
Summary: A novelization of Mirror's Edge, involving all and only original characters and story line, though obviously with some padding - back-story, emotions, thoughts and aspirations...the works.
1. The City

Mirror's Edge – The Novelization.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, story plot or anything else affiliated with Mirror's Edge

**Authors Note: **A few additions here and there, but what would a novelization be without them? Apart from this, I have used only original characters and story plot. The first few chapters will be slightly reflective, as I'm trying to give a feeling of the city and the characters, and will be recounting the events that lead up to the story in Mirror's Edge.

Read and review, it's all appreciated!!

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Her hand raced furiously across the page, delicate blots of ink, her thoughts personified, drifting along behind.

'_Let me paint you a picture,' _she began. It was a tentative beginning, so unlike her when she ran. But this was a different experience. Faith never was one for expression, only for action.

She didn't know what persuaded her to sit down now, perched on the edge of the rooftop, her boss' hollowed out AC lair framed behind her against the city skyline. The afternoon breeze danced in her short hair, whisking it up around her. She sighed, rubbing her eyes, and focusing on the page again.

Maybe she was trying to grasp the past. Isn't that why people recounted their memories? To get that feeling again, to look through at the world the same way they had before?

_Let me paint you a picture of my City…and what it is now, what it was…_

What _was _it now?

She looked out, gazing across the white, gleaming city, with its towering sky-scrapers, patterned and organized, highlighted with dashes of red, orange and blue. It was crisp, fresh, and she knew somewhere in her, it had come to occupy its own space…

_The city used to be dirty and dangerous, but it was alive and wonderful…Now, well…it's 'safe.' Crime levels are virtually zero, but you could easily say that everything else had gone down to zero as well…How much would you sacrifice to achieve that?_

Painful memories shivered through her: images of the November Riots.

_Everywhere you look now, you see CCTV. Everywhere, everyone, everything is closely monitored and covertly harassed if it doesn't meet the standards…How can the City maintain the status quo? Take a look around…random postal checks, tightly controlled elections, an ideologically tailored educational system impressing on young minds, to name a few…_

She sighed, rubbing her temples, aware that she was becoming fired up again. She didn't know how many political discussions she had had with Merc, but the rhetoric had obviously imprinted itself on her mind.

_What happened to music?_

She wrote this with Merc lingering in her mind. These were his words, his indignation now. A little smile flickered on her lips as she remembered his passion. He always said little about what bothered him – preoccupied himself with his pizza, or his Chinese takeaway, or a new computer program he got installed – and always dodged the big questions.

_Society is sterile – the main outlet of activity is consumerism – 'take a trip down to the New Eden Shopping Mall'…where all your possible whims and desires are catered to…the very whims and desires imposed upon you by your oppressors…_

But when he didn't talk about those things, he went on about other things…

_How does a government become the hero? Create a problem, and then solve it. _

As she wrote, whenever she wrote, it always hit her brilliantly, like lightening, the reasoning behind her living. Why she was a Runner.

_So I do this because I want to preserve individual freedom…intellectual freedom…the liberty to read the books you want to read, to view the art you want to view, to lead the life you want to lead, without Big Brother telling you how you can, telling you __if __you can…_

She took a deep breath in, feeling the energy course through her veins. She wrote these things because it clarified things for her, made the reasoning understandable – made her remember. And yet she knew, as she finished off the last sentences on the page, that the City was the reason for her very existence. Celeste had always warned her about this significant detail…

"There's more to life than surviving Faith…"

But that was a question for another day. Suddenly, Merc's voice boomed out from behind her.

"Hey, kiddo! Pizza's here!"

She smiled, rising up, closing the notebook and shoving the pencil in her pocket. She turned her back on the brilliantly lit city, with its complexities and questions, instead slowly limping back to the small, shabby but homelike AC. For now, this was home, and that was her only concern.


	2. Mercury in His Element

**Disclaimer: **Once again, I don't own anything..unfortunately.

**Author's Note: **A little piece about Merc, and the fall that Faith took...all the action will be coming next chapter.

Read and Review! :)

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Light filtered in peacefully, pulling her from her dreams. Faith opened her eyes slowly, taking in the metal ceiling of the AC, complete with small slits in the metal that had been opened, revealing the crystal blue sky. She groaned, pulled herself to a sitting position, and then winced suddenly. Dull pain flooded through her right leg.

"Mornin' Faith."

She looked over to Merc, sitting, as always, at his computer chair, eyes focused intently on the large computer screen before him.

"Ugh…morning Merc."

She stood up slowly, careful not to put weight on her right leg.

"I see you just remembered that fall you took," Merc commented. He had turned to Faith and was watching her with a small smirk.

"Right…_that _fall…"

It rarely happened, and when it did, it was embarrassing. Runners didn't fall. If they did, it was usually from a very high place, after a long run from the police, and it was warranted. Faith had miscalculated a simple wall-run and came crashing down, scraping her shin against metal scaffolding and tearing her calf muscle. Needless to say, she got about halfway home before Kreeg had to almost carry her back to the AC.

Merc had trouble suppressing his laughter.

"You musta been thinkin' about something distracting when you did it, right?"

Faith glared at him, hobbling over to a door at the far end of the AC.

"I was thinking about how much of a pain in the ass you are Merc."

He burst out laughing, his gray eyes twinkling.

"I knew it was me you were thinking about," he said, still laughing.

Her annoyance dissolved; she couldn't help but smile. She knew he actually got worried about her…that he cared.

She went into the small kitchen that Merc had set up. It wasn't much, and was crammed into a small, well lit room. A small sink, a small refrigerator, a novelty sized table with tiny chairs, compact cupboards and a few plates stacked up along the side of the sink. She began putting some cereal into a plate, glancing out through the metal slits at the pristine city. She felt the sudden urge to go running, but she knew she couldn't. She had to sit and wait out her injury.

She padded softly back into the main area, placing an apple on Merc's desk as she passed.

He picked it up and began eating immediately, crunching into it as he whizzed through databases, reviewed client requests and read online books that he had managed to pull from the censorship filter. Faith shuffled to the couch and slumped onto it.

"Anything new?" she asked between spoonfuls. Merc took another bite into the apple and nodded.

"A few run-of-the-mill deliveries, nothing special. Cel can take care of it." He turned to her. "Nothing you can do Faith…you gotta stay off that leg." He turned back to the screen and muttered, "Have to do a training course again."

"Did you just say what I think you said?"

Merc clicked back onto the page of the book he was reading.

"Sorry kiddo, but I have to make sure you're not gonna get yourself hurt."

Faith sighed, placing the cereal bowl beside her and pulling out her notebook from beneath her pillow. She had nothing else to do.

_I painted a picture…now let me tell you a story…_

She stared at Merc's hulking form as he relaxed in the computer chair, his broad, tattooed arms resting behind his head. She remembered when she first saw him – she had been scared.

_If you can't rely on the city, then who do you turn to? _

_In my case, an ex-Runner named Mercury, like after the Greek messenger-god – my guide, faithful friend…he's a miniature bear…_

She laughed to herself. Merc's head twitched slightly at the sound, his eyes flickering over for a moment. Then he focused again and kept reading.

_The first time I met him, I had broken into this gutted AC cooling tower, feasting my eyes on the way the moonlight bounced off the new, beautiful computer screens and flashy equipment…I was 16, homeless, without a family that I knew any more…_

She lingered on the sentence, taking its full meaning in.

_I miss her…_

She had written the words, broken her stream of thought, and yet she had to put them in. They were relevant as they were poignant. She shook her head, continuing on her previous memory.

_I gathered all I could into a small bag until I realised a gigantic shadow watching me from the corner of the room…_

_And, distinctly, it said,_

"_Can I help you kid?"_

_It started from there, 7 years ago…a distant time, but the memory still so fresh. He was at his prime…still is, just in a different way…_

She let the notebook slip from her fingers as she watched him thoughtfully. After a moment, she slowly lay back down on the red couch. A day like this was perfect for running…the conditions moderate, good visibility, no wind…

She sighed again, staring up at the roof. Today _could've _been a day for running, but she knew she'd spend it day dreaming.

"Cheer up Faith…I'm gonna get your favourite tonight," she heard Merc say. She glanced up at him. He had stood up, buttoning his crisp white shirt and fitting the earphone in his ear.

"I have to meet up with Drake real quick, alright? I'll see you tonight. And stay off the leg," he said sternly. She nodded, resignedly.

He jumped up, hoisting himself through the hole in the top of the tower, disappearing from sight. She could hear his feet against the rooftop and then, suddenly, silence as he jumped off the edge.


	3. Celeste

Chapter 3..finally, some action.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything affiliated with Mirror's Edge.

**Warning: **This chapter includes some moderate coarse language and violence

**Author's Note: **To the single reviewer, thank you! it's nice to hear from someone whose reading the story. to other readers, thanks for reading; send in your reviews, comments, any ideas or questions..it lets me know that this story is actually being read and it keeps me writing!

a note on the actual chapter - i realise that its a bit hard to read repetitive bits of action that is in freerunning/parkour, so ive tried to make it as exciting and least repetitive as possible. other than that, enjoy!

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"Faith."

She didn't stir.

"Faith…"

She sighed, turning onto her side. He clenched his jaw, watching her as she slept. He lingered a moment, sighed and moved to wake her up. He stopped, noticing a fragment of paper peeping out from beneath the couch. He bent down and picked it up.

"What's this," he murmured to himself. It was a small notebook. He flipped the cover over and skim read the first page. He flicked over to the next.

_He's a miniature bear…_

He went over the comment again, chuckling to himself.

"A miniature bear, huh Faith?" he said softly, looking over the edge of the book at her sleeping form.

He turned back to the first page, scanning the words, slowly nodding in agreement. He heard Faith moving and he quickly closed the book and shoved it back under the couch. Straightening up, he shook Faith's shoulder gently.

"Faith…" he repeated. Her eyes opened slowly.

"What is it?" she said after a few moments. Merc lingered over her, grinning.

"Vacation's over."

Faith took a few seconds to register what he had said. Suddenly she sat up straight, her eyes wide.

"What!"

Merc started laughing, going back to the computer desk.

"You heard me Faith. Eat something and get dressed. Time to get to work."

He heard her fling the covers onto the ground and then suddenly her arms were wrapped around his torso. His heart beat unevenly.

"Whoa, girl!"

She let go as quickly as she had hugged him, and he watched her race into the kitchen. Thankfully, there was no sign of a limp in her gait.

She came out of the room about ten minutes later and went to the end of the AC, following a small set of stairs to a tiny lower level. She emerged not long after, dressed, shoes in hand.

"What job do you have for me today?"

He looked away, preparing himself for her reaction.

"Trainin' time Faith…" he trailed off, steadying himself. He looked up as Faith brushed past him, picking up her earphone.

"Fine," she said, smiling.  
Merc was stunned.

"Oh…okay, well then good. Cel will be there to help you out. It's on the Westgate Garden tower."

She nodded quickly and hoisted herself through the roof hole. Merc sat back at his chair, fitting on his microphone. He began tracking Faith's progress.

Things were finally back to normal.

"We're back in business, kiddo."

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"Check out the training grounds. Pretty slick, huh?"

Merc's voice came through the comm. link. Faith laughed at the pride in his voice.

"Sure is Merc."

She wanted to waste no time proving that she was more than ready to start handling client's jobs. She started running, spying a small flat, fibro ramp. She paced herself, feeling her breath course evenly through her body. As she reached the edge, she jumped, holding her legs close to her body. She landed, moving her torso forward and rolling along the back of her shoulder to take the pressure off her feet. She was up again, running towards a vent with enough space beneath it to slide under. Gathering momentum, she slid along her side, glancing up at the vent as she passed beneath it. She headed towards a flight of stairs. A loud whistle grabbed her attention and she directed her gaze at its source. A small figure, clad in red and black, was waving at her from the rooftop ahead.

"There she is. Get after her!" Merc directed.

Faith leapt down the stairs, following a few planks of wood into open space. She leapt across, landing heavily on the rooftop and rolling again. Celeste was waiting for her, holding her leg behind her and stretching. She nodded her head in greeting as Faith approached.

"Hey Faith, welcome back," she said brightly. She smirked suddenly. "Didn't think we'd be seeing you so soon." At that, she set off running again, leaping onto the nearest rooftop. Faith rolled her eyes, laughing and set off behind her.

They ran through a few foundation skills first – wall-running, balancing and climbing. When it was done, she brought up defence.

"Merc wants you to practice sparring…you know how he is," she said apologetically. There was a crackle in the comm. link, and then silence. Faith smiled and nodded, following Cel's prompts.

"So how was the break off from running, Faith?" Cel asked between punches. Faith shrugged, ducking her head as Cel threw another shot.

"It was alright, but I'm not a fan. I couldn't wait to get out and do this again." She jumped back, grabbing Cel's arm and twisting it behind her. She let go. Cel nodded, sighing.

"I wouldn't mind a break myself." She took out a handgun.

"Really?"

They moved onto disarming opponents – Faith's favourite. She wasn't a fan of weapons, but there was a certain joy in using a cop's own gun against him.

Cel was nodding.

"Like I said Faith…there's more to life than surviving, right?" Her eyes twinkled distantly as Merc interrupted the session.

"Okay, that's enough training ladies, gotta get to the real thing. Drake's got a job for you Cel, so check in with him."

Cel sighed almost imperceptibly, her expression changing, and then it was gone. She smiled, waving her hand as she started off. "See you later Faith!"

"Faith, you can head back now –"

"What!"

"Don't worry; I've got a job for you tomorrow. Don't sweat it kid."

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She had never seen the sky so blue before, the city so majestic. Well, maybe she had. But it had been a while, so it suddenly hit her with a force akin to seeing it for the first time. She breathed in, deep, taking in all the scents of the city entangled with the crisp air. She turned on her heel, running along a very thin vent that lined the large building she stood on, nestled comfortably in the Financial District of the City. It declined sharply and she followed it like it was an extension of her, sliding along her thigh, flashes of birds passing her by as quickly as lightening. She reached the bottom, leaping up slightly before moving into a roll. She rounded the building, climbing onto a small, steel balcony supporting a gigantic orange billboard promoting the City's latest mayoral candidate. She climbed over the railing, pushing off from the billboard and launching herself into mid air. Time suspended for a moment as she hung there, a fragment, like a tiny floating feather amidst the city jungle. Suddenly, everything became sharper as she slammed into the top of the crane and slid down towards the rooftop. She scaled her way down from the crane, finding herself on solid ground, her knees buckling ever so slightly, as though they were thanking their lucky stars that they hadn't shattered in the landing. She grabbed the metal gating of a fence ahead, launching herself over it. The comm. link crackled. She leapt off the edge of the rooftop to the next and began running to the brink, launching herself off almost without thought. As she landed, the comm. link crackled again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure the birds are real impressed Faith, but once you finish showing off, y'think you might concentrate on some actual work?"

His sarcastic commentary came in sharply. She rolled her eyes, suppressing a quiet laugh.

"Get to Cel's position for the handoff. You need to get the delivery to her."

She kept running, launching herself into a wall climb.

"She'll be near the Communications Tower-"

The comm. link cut out as Faith grabbed onto a rooftop cable that stretched close to 70 metres to the next building.

Her mind began to wander then, and she scolded herself, knowing too well that it was the reason for her injury. Still, she couldn't help but consider what Cel had said the day before. Faith had pondered it that evening as she sat on the roof of the AC, looking out at the City, faintly lit by the setting sun. Faith never really considered her future. Running was something she did on a day-to-day basis. Jobs came in and she completed them. The limits of her existence were quickly becoming apparent to her.

She bashed through the rooftop door, racing into a well-lit corridor. The pick-up bag was placed inside, near some piping. She slowed to a jog, looking up at a small vent opening near the ceiling. She turned her back, wall-climbing and pushing off towards the vent.

"Wires are fizzin' about you Faith."

She grabbed onto the vent, hoisting herself above them. She spied the yellow bag and grabbed it, wrapping the black strap around her torso and letting the bag rest on her back.

"Sounds like some Blues are headed your way. News chopper tipped 'em off."

She cursed at his words. There was no doubt the cops would already be deployed ahead of her, knowing that she had gone into the building.

"That damn chopper," she growled, crawling through the vent. She spied the exit ahead and paced herself for the fall. She slipped through the opening, hearing the sudden shout of a cop.

"Hey! There she is!"

She rolled, albeit awkwardly and pain soared through her leg. She faltered slightly, her leg buckling beneath her.

"Faith…" Merc's voice was worried. The whizzing of a bullet flying past her snapped her back into action. She began running towards a flight of stairs. Bullets tore along behind her, ricocheting off the walls and steel frame of the stairs.

"Just get the hell out of there," Merc urged.

"What the fuck…" she puffed, reaching the rooftop level. Pushing open the door, the brisk air wrapped around her. Her throat became dry, her eyes watering at the iciness.

"Wires are going crazy, get_ out of there _Faith!"

She turned to her left, speeding towards a small ramp leading off the edge of the rooftop. She ignored the burning sensation in her leg.

"I'm patching in Cel," Merc informed her hurriedly.

"Y'there Cel?"

Her light voice came in over the comm. link.

"What the hell's happening? I can hear gunshots and that bird seems a little too curious."

Faith reached the edge and leapt off, her legs flailing beneath her. She landed roughly and she gasped in pain.

"Faith's on her way, get your ass ready to move," she heard Merc say.

She began running again, all too aware of the echo of police sirens on street level. Suddenly, there was a ringing sound beside her, and it only dawned on her that bullets were landing in the steel circuitry around her. She didn't understand. This had never happened to her before. There was the occasional run in with the police, but this…this was something else.

She jumped up, her head bobbing over the line of the rooftops, before she fell again, sliding down a few wooden planks. A barrage of bullets broke through the City's stillness. She frowned, realising that it hadn't come from behind her.

"Blues ahead. You're gonna have to get through 'em."

Her eyes widened. She reached the top of rooftop AC and spotted their uniforms, guns wielded and firing.

"Ah shit," she swore, preparing herself mentally as she jumped to the next rooftop. The officer raced forward, firing a stray bullet that sped above her shoulder. She ducked, sliding along the ground and kicking him in the knee. As he doubled over, she let her knee fly into his forehead. He fell limp to the ground. She swallowed, feeling the adrenaline pump through her. It had been a little while since she had a confrontation like this. There was one other cop standing on a steel balcony a few metres ahead. Faith looked down at the handgun on the ground, and decided to forego it.

She grabbed the railing and vaulted onto the balcony. She stepped behind an AC, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, the cop rounded the corner and she grabbed the handgun, disarming him. He shouted in surprise and ducked as she threw a punch. He grabbed her arm and pushed her back. She fumbled slightly and then, realising she was holding the gun, pointed it as his head. He stopped immediately, his hands falling limp.

"Hey now, you don't have to do that!" he said. She whipped him with the butt of the gun. He fell to the ground and then stubbornly attempted to get up. She threw the gun to the ground and started running again, untying the bag straps.

"You ready Cel?" Merc asked.

"Yep, I can see Faith now."

She was racing up towards the rooftop.

"Get to Celeste. There are more blues on the way," Merc instructed her.

She climbed up a ladder along the side of the building wall.

"Come on Faith, CPF's on your tail," she heard Cel say just as she came into view.

"Hey! Throw me the bag!" she shouted at her. Faith quickly finished untying it and grabbed it firmly in her hand. She threw it up towards Cel, praying she would catch it.

"I got it!"

"Okay…watch it Cel, they're playing rough," Faith warned her. She nodded, backing away from the edge.

"I know, I'll be fine…Shit! Get out of here!"

She motioned to something behind Faith. Faith spun on her heel, watching as several cops burst onto the rooftop, their guns drawn. She began running along the opposite direction of the rooftop, though slower this time. She knew she had nowhere to go.

"Engage suspect!"

She raced ahead, seeing the edge looming up ahead. Beyond it, nothing. No other rooftop close enough to jump to, nothing to scale…

"You gotta get off that roof Faith! I don't care how you do it, just do it!" Merc exclaimed hurriedly, panic faintly creeping into his voice.

She knew she did, too. Only problem was there was nowhere to go. She slowed, glancing behind as the cops gained on her, while the rooftop edge inched closer.

"Faith…" she heard Merc's voice trail off.

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R&R!


	4. Trigger Happy

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, and am not affiliated with Mirror's Edge. Come on, we all know it.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long absence but I, thankfully, just finished all of my exams. Much love to all the reviewers, I appreciate the comments! Hope you enjoy this installment.

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If there was an appropriate term for the Blues that she could think of then and there, it was trigger happy. The bullets whizzed past her with a violent determination. She steeled herself against the likely injury that could follow – a sudden sting and then burning as the bullet lodged itself almost comfortably in her torso. She jerked to the left as a bullet flew just past her, the sound of the whir ringing in her ears. She had resolved unconsciously, she knew, to jump off the building. Yes, there was nothing beyond it, but it didn't matter now – getting caught and cruelly interrogated was not a possibility she could entertain.

"Merc," she started, about to launch into the quickest goodbye of her life. Tears welled up in her eyes; she didn't know if it was the sadness, or the fact that she was running headlong into an icy current of wind. Suddenly, the chopper rose up majestically before her and her brain began immediately calculating the distance, the energy left her in muscles, the amount of power she'd need to put into the jump…

She leapt off with frightening speed, her left hand grabbing onto the bottom rails of the chopper. She latched on with her right hand, gripping the rail tightly. The chopper seemed to dip suddenly before making a slow descent alongside the building; Faith gazed at her reflection in the building's glass, her insignificance striking her with poignancy. Beneath her, like tiny scurrying ants, cars whizzed along in their business, barely aware of the danger that took place above them. She readjusted her grip on the rails as she felt her palms become moist. The chopper had maneuvered closer to the next rooftop and she spied a soft mat she could land on. Looking up for the last time at the white chopper, framed against the powder blue sky, she watched as her fingers came loose and she fell free towards the mat below her. She didn't slam into it as much as she sunk into it, her eyes tracing the rooftop she had leapt from towards near certain death – around 5 Blues were standing at the edge, peering down at her, their guns still drawn. "This was meant to be a low-key job; why the hell were they shooting?" Merc's breathless voice came in, anger bubbling at its surface. "What did you do Faith?" he asked, and she could imagine him, eyes narrowed and brow creased as he waited for her to admit a mistake.

"Nothing!" she protested. "They just opened fire!"

She said it incredulously – after all, it _was _meant to be low-key and she wasn't doing anything that called for the use of heavy fire, if any fire _at all_. "Don't know what the hells happening, but I'll ask around," Merc said, his voice regaining its control; the anger still lingered like an undertone of static. "Get your ass back to base Faith." He shut off the comm. Link quickly and she knew his brain was swamped with thoughts and possibilities.

A small flame flickered on inside her; something about his protectiveness made her feel better.

* * *

Darkness had descended on the white city; silence had not. Choppers scanned the dark streets, their high powered beams illuminating hidden corners and chasing away the shadows. It seemed that trigger-happy was not the only appropriate term for the Blues; hung-up was another. While hiccups on the job usually faded from the public spotlight by evening, this situation looked likely to linger. For some reason, the Blues desperately wanted to find Faith and, if by a stroke of luck, her associated motley crew of runners. Neither would be happening tonight.

Faith sat quietly in the hollowed out AC, aware of the bright searchlight passing over the base. It left as quickly as it had come and she continued stacking playing cards into a pyramid on the desk before her. It was a contemplative exercise, symbolic in a sense. She stacked the cards carefully, her eyes focused on each wobble, on the creases in each card that signaled some fragility. She stacked them accordingly, positioning each so that another playing card would make up for some weakness with its own strength. She looked up at the empty chair before her; Merc was out with Drake, probably trying to gather some Intel about what had set the Blues off. The police scanner running on the computer screen flashed.

"_Say again Officer Connors."_

"_Going to see Pope. Robert Pope."_

She stopped, sitting back in the darkness as she listened to her voice. Memories flooded her rapidly and nostalgia began eating away at the corners of her mind. She stood up and moved fluidly to the computer.

"_Taking a statement on that break-in last week."_

She clicked out of the program, opening up a satellite map.

"_Yeah anyway, it's 56 West Arland Drive. Tell Lieutenant Miller." _

The map began locating the address, a transparent box locating and zooming in on the address.

"_Copy that. I'll relay the message Officer Connors."_

She sat back in the desk chair, watching the screen and waiting.

"_Thanks. Connor out."_

Her sister's comm. Link buzzed and shut off. She leant forward, her fingers tracing the edge of the screen.

"Hello sis," she said softly.

"You there kiddo?"

Merc's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey Merc."

Lightness played in his voice.

"I bet you're listening to the chatter."

She smiled, still tapping away at the keyboard.

"You know me," she conceded, scanning the map of the industrial address.

"Well try and get some sleep…it's been a rough day." Tiredness lined his words. "Gonna put the word out tomorrow, see why those Blues got itchy trigger fingers. I'll come by later, okay?"

She hummed a response at his promise; she sensed that he wanted to spend a bit of a quiet day with her. The day's events had rattled him.

"And don't chuck that pizza! I like the toppings –"

"Matured, yeah I know," she interrupted, grinning. She lifted the lid of the pizza box – a few slices were left inside, cold and stale...or, as Merc preferred, "mature."

"See ya Merc," she finished, getting out of the computer chair and heading back to the couch – she wanted to finish off the playing card pyramid. A chopper spotlight illuminated the AC again, lighting up the pyramid brilliantly before fading again. She sank back into the couch, picking up two cards.

"_Shots fired, repeat, shots fired."_

The scanner began beeping – there was an emergency. She stopped, looking over at the screen as the satellite map popped up again.

"_All units proceed to 56 West Arland Drive immediately."_

The transparent box was flashing red, still centered on the large building she had been looking at. Her mind, suddenly moving so slowly, finally clicked into place.

"_Proceed with caution!"_

"Oh God. Kate!" She jumped up, knocking the lightweight table, toppling the pyramid to the floor. The cards scattered all across the AC floor. She rushed over to the beeping screen. She pushed the chair out of the way, bringing up the blueprint of the building and initiating a scan of the building.

"Where are you Kate, where are you," she muttered anxiously, her eyes scrutinizing the screen. The information she wanted popped up and she quickly grabbed the earpiece, fixing it into her ear as she turned. Behind her, Merc slipped into the AC.

"Hey Faith."

He had intended to give her a bear hug, but she strode past him briskly; his intentions went unnoticed. He turned to her.

"Merc," she acknowledged him simply. He frowned.

"You off?" he asked, confused. She began lifting herself out of the AC.

"Just get on comm. and track me."

He watched as she lifted herself up and out, disappearing into the early morning darkness. The whirring sound of choppers still echoed in the city. He bit his lip worriedly before taking a seat at the computer.

* * *

5:20 am. The words '56 West Arland Drive' didn't convey nearly as much about the grand building than the sight itself – it was a stately sort of place, sharp spires rising up into the budding blue sky, while the streamlined wall tiles sleekly reflected the sunrise. The air was cool, almost acidic in Faith's lungs. Tiredness tugged at her somewhere in her unconscious; her senses, however, were painfully acute. She glanced around, taking in the sight, struggling to piece together her running path.

"Almost there," she breathed.

"Well, anytime you'd like to tell me where _there _is and what the hell you're doing…feel free." His scathing sarcasm was like a cup of coffee in the morning; it woke her up, made her drifting mind focus, attuned her into her senses.

"It's my sister," Faith answered simply, starting to properly put together her route.

"Ah, okay. I'm gonna see if I can figure out what's going on. Gimme a second," he said, his voice animated, active.

She started moving, heading towards an adjacent rooftop. She jumped off, curling her legs towards her torso, before letting go and landing on the top of an AC vent. She shifted into a slide, easing her body into the movement. She kept going, heading towards another rooftop, one that would be closer to her access point. A wooden ramp led off the edge; she followed it diligently, her mind focused only on the point before her. She landed swiftly, easing into a roll, feeling the cool ground on her shoulder as the world tumbled about her. She stood up as Merc spoke.

"Okay, Drake says there's been some heat on West Arland – Pope's place. I'm guessing that's where you're headed."

She said nothing, wall climbing onto a higher section of the rooftop.

"Be careful Faith. There's no telling what's going on there," he warned. Her mind drifted back to the day before – she didn't want a repeat.

She took a running jump over an electrified fence, grabbing on to a pipe hanging midway between where she leapt, and where she wanted to land. She hung there for a moment, the gentle breeze clinging to her bare skin.

"You know he was running for mayor right?" Merc's voice broke in, excited this time. A smile played on her lips – politics was something that peaked his interest.

"Finally, someone who could actually make a difference in this place."

She rolled her eyes, hoping he wouldn't launch into a diatribe on the inefficiency of the other political candidates. She moved back and forth, gaining momentum before she pushed off from the pipe and landed roughly on the opposite side of the fence. She slowly got to her feet. Ahead, she spotted a red door; unguarded, and most likely unlocked. It wasn't easy to get to, so there'd be no need to lock it. After all, it was on a terrace precariously positioned, hanging off the side of the building and overlooking the busy city streets 40 stories down. It was a long jump – a _very _long jump, and the fall even longer.

"Watch it Faith," he cautioned softly.

She hopped onto the top of another AC vent, examining the distance between the edge of the rooftop she was on and the terrace. She could make it… almost. She took a deep breath in, steadying herself, rubbing her hands on her pants. The comm. Link was silent; she supposed even Merc was steeling himself for the jump.

Faith walked back to the edge of the AC and started running, trying to gain as much power as possible in the little space she had. The edge loomed up and she felt her feet leave the ground unwillingly; her arms were flailing by her side and she knew it would kill her momentum. She forced her legs towards her torso, trying to control her body's movement. Beneath, the world was murky, blurry, a montage of movement. She looked ahead of her, feeling the wind bite at her skin. The railing approached and she had no other options. She reached out, grabbing the railings and feeling her shoulder muscles scream in protest as she latched on. Her body slammed into the side of the building; a sense of fire raged from her leg muscles into her torso. Her vision blackened for a split second before clarity returned. Everything looked sharp again. She tried to slow her breathing as much as possible before pulling herself up onto the terrace. She lifted herself over the railing and collapsed onto the terrace, her hands finding the floor and seeming to stay there, thankful that they were on solid ground again. A few more seconds passed before she could pull herself to her feet. A bit wobbly, but still there. She heard Merc exhale on the comm. Link.

"I can't believe you made that jump kiddo," he admitted, relief washing over his voice. She shook her head.

"I can't believe it either," she murmured.

She started into a run again, heading towards the red door. She lifted her arms up, mimicking a battering ram. The door burst open, slamming loudly against the wall behind it. A long, clean corridor stretched out before her. She was inside.

"Merc. I'm in," she whispered.

* * *

R&R

the action is coming in the next chapter =)


	5. Priorities

**Disclaimer: **I do not own and am not affiliated with Mirror's Edge or its characters.

**Author's Note: **My apologies for the _very_ long absence, so I hope this installment makes up for it =) just to clarify Death12's point about Faith sustaining a bullet wound – she wasn't shot, but was prepping herself in the case that she was. I will make sure though, in future, to not ignore the physical aspects of running and the injuries she's gained from it.

Apart from that, thanks for all the reviews!

Enjoy ^-^

Pope's place was clean, quiet and dressed demurely. Faith was confronted by a solid white wall, decorated simply with a wide canvas swathed in green swirls. She pivoted swiftly, catching her breath in her throat as the apprehension rose in her. She didn't know exactly what to expect. Kate rarely got herself into trouble. Faith followed the corridor as it snaked around empty corners; she was finally confronted with a lift sitting in a dead-end. She punched the button - the wait seemed like an eternity. At length, its arrival sounded and the doors slid open expectantly. She almost jumped inside, her eyes glancing automatically to the electronic news-bar embedded in the lift wall. It was running a story about Pope's campaign, naturally, and she found herself skimming the editorial. She always found Pope's ideology interesting…relevant. It was one of the only things in the outside world that sparked a sense of hope in her. Everything else was void. She glanced down at her shoes, scuff marks engulfing the tips. Yes, everything else was void. This was her life and she thought that perhaps, outside of running, there was nothing more to it.

The lift dinged as it reached the next level. She stepped out into the wide, airy atrium. Light filtered calmly in through high windows, and aside from the low hum of the lift, all else was silence. Faith moved slowly, glancing around her as she approached the staircase ahead of her. If it weren't for Kate's distress call, it would have been impossible to place this as the scene of a crime.

She reached the upper level, and, spotting an open door flanked by glass walls, quickened up her pace. As she approached, a figure, blurred through the glass, became apparent. Whoever it was, was motionless, their back turned to the door.

It took Faith a few seconds before the scene made sense to her. A hefty older man was slumped lifelessly over his desk. Apart from the few splattered blood drops and Kate's stiff stance beside the desk, the office was undisturbed.

"Kate…" she began, worry creeping into her voice. Kate turned slowly, arms folded rigidly over her chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"What happened?" Faith cut her off, hopping up the stairs towards the desk.

"Did you…" she trailed off as she spotted the gaping bullet wound in the man's forehead.

"No!" Kate exclaimed indignantly, although her anxiety was palpable. She knew what it looked like, but she was afraid to admit it, even to herself.

"You don't recognize him?" Kate asked incredulously. Faith frowned, rounding the desk.

"Should I?"

She couldn't lift her eyes from the man's face – he looked dismayed, but not surprised. Maybe he knew it was coming.

"It's Robert…Robert Pope…friend of dads!" she explained, her voice rising in pitch; she inched closer to the desk.

"Shit. _That _Pope," Faith murmured, lifting her eyes from the dead man. Kate sighed, glancing over the body before settling uneasily into a chair.

"He called me…we hadn't talked much since I joined up," she began. She leant forward, her head dropping slightly. "He had a break-in last week. He's still a campaigner…Don't you read the news?" she finished, almost scornfully. Faith narrowed her eyes.

"It's not news any more," she corrected coolly. "It's advertising."

Kate sighed again and shook her head before dropping her eyes to the blemish free white tiles.

"He was running for mayor."

Faith turned, casting her eyes over the wide rooftops beyond the clear glass. It was a habit – she constantly watched for two things – Blues and runners.

"So the break-in must've really spooked him then," she concluded, leaning closer to the glass so she could monitor the road beneath.

"That's what I thought!" Kate answered, dismayed. "But it was odd! He told me about the break-in, asked me to come…then asked after you."

Faith glanced over her shoulder.

"Really?" She frowned, one eyebrow raised. "I haven't seen him for _at least _ten years."

There was a moment's silence before Kate stood up resolutely.

"Anyway…he was alive when I got here," she finished. She had begun pacing nervously; no doubt, the pieces of evidence mounting in her mind were becoming increasingly incriminating. "Just…just sitting at his desk, writing…everything went black. When I came to…he'd been shot." She motioned to his body. "And I'm pretty sure it's with my gun," she finished, distressed. "There was a book on the desk…a diary. It was gone."

She had begun pacing around the desk now. "I'm _sure _there was someone else in the building. Left my radio in the car, haven't had time to phone it in!"

Faith grabbed her sister's hand. She could think of no other alternative.

"Come on, come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe."

Kate shook her hand out of Faith's grip, shuffling backwards.

"This isn't the time to run!" Tears had welled up in her eyes and her bottom lip was quivering slightly.

"I'm not like you."

She paused, if only for an infinitesimal moment, but it was enough to leave a painful burn in Faith's chest. "Running will just make me look guilty."

Faith's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You think this was an accident, Kate?"

Her sister froze, her jaw clenched.

"There are no accidents in this city. Someone wanted _him _dead, and wanted _you _to take the fall."

She had begun backing away now. Kate rushed forward, her mouth hanging open.

"Help me, Effy, please," she pleaded. "You've got contacts. There's gotta be more to this…Something he knew. Something he wanted to tell me."

Faith shook her head furiously.

"I can't get involved in this Kate. You know what I do. I just…can't."

Kate let out a long breath and turned, frustrated, to the window.

"Great."

The comm. Link buzzed slightly and Merc's subdued voice came over.

"Blues incoming Faith. You might wanna be outgoin' right about – oh – _now._"

Faith took in a deep breath, training her eyes on Kate. Finally, she moved to the desk.

"I'll see what I can do."

She reached over and lifted a small scrap of paper embedded beside Pope's bloody head.

"Listen Faith, if this goes down badly, find Lieutenant Miller – he's my superior. Take anything you find to him," she instructed hurriedly.

Merc broke in, his voice edgy.

"I'm serious Faith. You know they're not playin' nice. Get _out_ of there."

"Go," Kate urged, motioning away. Her eyes were darting nervously to the glass doors. Faith shuffled slowly to the stairs, though the sheer amount of thoughts in her mind was weighing her down. She bit her lip, examining the distant stairwell from beneath her eyelashes. She knew what was waiting outside for her and it meant leaving her sister. Life wasn't _entirely _void outside of running and it was moments like this that gave her existence a bitter taste.

"And Faith…"

She froze at Kate's soft, sad voice. She turned slowly, biting her lip harder, the image of her sister in the police uniform stunning her. Sometimes she'd forget, and when she saw it again, the reality became almost unbearable. How could two people, raised in almost identical situations, turn out so differently?

"Thank you," Kate whispered.

She rushed forward, pulling her sister in a tight, protective embrace. She knew now that all her running jobs were to come second to this – first and foremost, she _had_ to protect her sister at all costs.

She slowly loosened her grasp and turned, heading to the door. The light filtering into the atrium was stronger now as the sun rose to its peak. She glanced down to the lower level immediately, noticing the Blues spilling into the atrium from every opening.

"Ah shit!"

"Get her!" a high-pitched voice bounced off the atrium walls. She began running towards the railing, gripping it in her sweaty palm and vaulting towards the lower level. She landed awkwardly, feeling the familiar twang of pain in her calf muscle.

"Get out of that building Faith, move!"

She sucked in a deep breath of air as she stumbled to her feet, scanning the corridor ahead as she fled down it. Rounding the corner, the corridor widened into a smaller atrium, sectioned off into halves. Merc's heavy voice came in hastily.

"SWAT's swarmin on ya Faith. Find a way outta there!"

The shouts of the Blues were louder now, the slap of their shiny boots on the tiles ringing in her ears. She vaulted over a small, glass display, spotting a wide staircase ahead. A barrage of bullets landed in the glass wall beside her, bringing it to the floor with a deafening crash.

"SWAT's here," she murmured, feeling the beads of sweat building on her forehead. The bullets weren't from a pistol, that was for sure.

She bounded up the steps towards the upper level, following the long hallway. She had no clue where she was running exactly, so she hoped her improvisational skills were up to scratch.

"Should be an exit through the accounting office," Merc directed. A small wave of relief rippled through her as she turned the corner, sighting the office. A short wall led up to a gap between it and the ceiling, sheltering some ventilation pipes. She slowed down, taking a few steps back in preparation. She fumbled the wall climb slightly, grabbing the edge of the wall desperately as she heard the SWAT teams racing up towards the office. She hauled herself up and over another break in the wall, landing in a separate section of the office. It was a dead-end and the unfocused panic was beginning to burden her. She glanced up at the ceiling, looking for her escape. She found it – a small ventilation shaft. The wall climb went smoother this time and she easily clambered into the small square. It was stuffy inside and her breathing was coming in short, heavy gasps. She began shuffling along quickly, very wary of the sounds beneath her. She wasn't mistaken – a shower of bullets narrowly missed her as she skidded over and into another section of the vent. Sweat was pouring freely from her forehead now and the temperature felt like it had risen dramatically. She could see, just a few metres up, the exit from the vent – light trickled into the vent softly and a slight breeze urged her on. She slithered to the edge, gripping both sides of the vent and launching herself into a landing roll.

"Stand and wait for our officers to assist you!" came a loud, obnoxious voice over some unseen speaker. She ignored it, heading to the exit at the end of the hallway. As she approached it, the low whir of a chopper pierced the walls. She clenched her jaw as she shoved the door open, the bright sunlight stinging her eyes and rendering everything slightly out of focus. When her eyes adjusted, she realized she was standing on a long, shadowed terrace. In her periphery, the sleek grey chopper hovered close to the building. The SWAT officers aboard were prepping their machine gun.

She raced to the end of the terrace and vaulted over the railing with a bare thought to the consequences. She could only think of the imminent death that waited for her at the receiving end of that machine gun.

The terrace welcomed a long slope down the side of the building. She folded her body close to the slope as she quickly slid towards its edge. She desperately tried to realign her body, spying a corresponding rooftop that would provide her landing pad. She folded her limbs closer to her body as the edge approached. Large bullets bounced off the glossy tiles around her. The comm. Link was quiet, though she knew Merc was barely resisting the urge to shout in panic. She grit her teeth tighter together as she passed out of the shadow of the building; the wind speed had picked up and was tugging roughly at her clothes, threatening to pull her violently off course. She wanted to shut her eyes as the edge loomed, but she forced them to stay open. She slid off the edge like a small bug on a windshield and forced her body to stay stationary as she flew across the gap between the buildings. The road beneath was blurry, swarming with onlookers. Time seemed to stretch on, and when she finally crossed the gap, she had to remind herself to pull her head in and roll across her shoulder. The chopper was close behind, the operator of the machine-gun wielding it with careless aggression.

She began running across the rooftops, keeping close to the sides and staying in the shadows of huge air-con installations. They did much of the bullet-catching, thankfully.

"That bird aint playin' around. Get your ass to the CEC news building; I'm finding you a way out."

She diligently kept moving, her eyes watering from the speed and iciness of the wind rushing towards her. She remembered the location of the building and her mind immediately began calibrating the route from her current position. She flew around the corner and headed towards a scrap ramp hanging off the side. Below, a cushy mat welcomed her; the feel of it was a nice relief. Before too long, she was back on the concrete, taking the path to the right along the rooftop. Beside her, a temporary escape from the chopper's leering eyes waited; a long, spiral blue staircase. She fluidly bounced from the rooftop to the staircase, gliding along in a wall run until she grabbed the cool metal between her gloved hands. The sound of her feet pounding against the metal echoed in the narrow space between the buildings and she found herself in a short respite from the chopper. She took the chance to catch her breath, slowing her pace ever so slightly. The CEC building wasn't far.

"Do not run! I repeat, do not run!"

She ignored their amplified, pointless objections, landing onto the adjacent rooftop. She wanted to stop and laugh her head off – maybe it was the adrenaline that was making her delirious – but the fact that he was telling her _not _to run, while attempting to shoot her in the head, was laughable.

Finally the entrance appeared ahead of her. She battered through the door, the cool air inside engulfing her as she entered. The hallway was empty, decorated in stark red and white. She could hear, distantly, voices of the Blues, likely to burst into the hallway any second now. She climbed over a steel fence sectioning off one side of the hallway just as they did, the sound of the lift doors sliding open slowly. She moved stealthily to the next steel fence, waiting until they had passed into the main section of the hallway, giving her enough time to slip into the lift.

"No sign of suspect."

She prepped herself mentally, counting down the seconds as they moved further in. Just as they shuffled into the mid-section of the hallway, she grabbed the steel fence, locking it in her grip, and hauled herself over. She practically flew to the lift.

"Suspect spotted!"

They let out a clip of bullets, most of them burying themselves into the lift doors as they slid shut. Faith sighed, burying her face in her hands, her knees suddenly becoming jelly-like.

"Yeah…you can breathe now," Merc conceded, his voice strained. "Damn…what a mess," he murmured, almost to himself. "I can't believe Pope's gone. Shit man, this damn city."  
They were both silent a moment, the hum of the lift filling the void.

"So you knew him huh? Well you sure opened a can of worms on this one." His voice hardened up again; he was sensing that the lull in action was coming to an abrupt close. "Take the bridge across the Avenue and head for Centurion Plaza."

Faith leant back against the wall and stared at the shiny grey doors, waiting expectantly.

----- So there you have it folks! Next chapter up very soon! R&R ----


	6. No More Wings, No More Icarus

_Author's Note: Once again, I apologise for the absence. Damn university work demands __far__ too much of my time. _

_Thank you to all the reviewers! I'm really glad to know that people are keeping up with this story and it makes me SO happy that y'all are enjoying it!_

_Texcatlipoka (I really hope I spelt that right) – I know where you're coming from. I find it difficult to find ever new ways to start a sentence so hopefully this chapter has a little less repetition. I've also tried to add a bit more detail to this chapter that isn't exactly canon, but should give it some more flavour._

_Warning: Mild coarse language. Oh…and this chapter is REALLL long…not that that's a bad thing really…_

_Disclaimer: I do not own and am not affiliated with Mirror's Edge. _

* * *

The blood oozed down her dirty elbow, making a fine red stream towards her fingers. Faith let her head rest against the lift wall. It was barely moving, probably damaged from the rounds it took. She sighed, faintly aware of the blood dripping on the clean, white ground.

"Take the bridge across the Avenue and head to Centurion plaza."

She nodded, even though Merc couldn't see her. It was about this time in an assignment when tiredness tugged at her and she wanted to throw the whole thing in. If it wasn't for the anger bubbling away inside of her, she would've fallen asleep then and there.

Faith forced her eyes open and she began moving her limbs, trying to keep her muscles limber. She quickly dabbed at the gash on her elbow, feeling the sting shoot up into her forearm.

"Damn it," she hissed.

"What's wrong?" Merc queried, the sound of frenzied typing coming over the link like static. He was probably mashing the keyboard so violently he'd have to scrounge one off Drake soon.

"Just a cut," she murmured, training her eyes on the lift doors. The lift had slowed to a stop and the doors were shuddering open painfully slow. The hallway before her was splattered in yolk yellow and black décor. She rolled her eyes, wondering which color-blind moron picked the shade. The wall that confronted her was lined with screens streaming images of the latest news. She had no doubt she was on it somewhere.

She began to jog down the hall to her right, scanning the sleek screens as she passed. The faint hum of a blue's comm. Link wafted through the red door ahead of her. She battered through it, hearing the whir and echo of police sirens almost forty floors beneath.

"Picking up squad cars movin' in on you. You ain't got much time Faith," Merc murmured apprehensively.

She was well aware of the situation. She slid down a side wall and landed gracefully, eying her destination: another door, set firmly beyond a gap in the building. She steadied herself, wiping her hands on her khaki's – sweaty hands could ruin a wall run, and that could turn out very nasty. She started into the run, planting her hand firmly on the wall beside her as her feet walked across the wall, canvassing the terrifying gap in a few swift movements. Beneath, the slow spin of lights atop the cop cars flickered in her peripheral vision. Behind her, a door was shoved open, followed by barked instructions to "Move!"

Faith pushed open the red door, finding herself in another yellow hallway. The _ping _of a bullet ricocheting behind her made her jump shakily. Her hands were trembling slightly. She jogged to the end of the hallway. It curved to the right as the building merged into a long, glass corridor that connected it to the adjacent office block. Faith bit her lip nervously, backing up a bit.

"Watch the bullets," Merc warned her. He had stopped typing and was staring at his screen anxiously, his big hands gripping the edges of the computer table – his grip threatened to snap off the corners.

She nodded to his instructions again and took off into a lithe sprint. Bullets immediately shattered the surrounding glass into fine pieces, spraying it against her skin as she passed. Pinpricks of pain squealed at her as she headed into the adjacent building, a hint of relief coming over her as the building provided shelter from the shower of bullets. She spotted a possible exit on the floor beneath her. Fresh blobs of blood had collected on her arm. She brushed them away, trying to focus her blurry vision. Sweat was dripping into her eyes.

She vaulted over the railing, feeling it slide unsteadily between her moist fingers. The exit swung open easily, ushering in the icy breeze. She didn't mind it: her body was running at an extremely high temperature and she was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She turned to her left and vaulted across a railing to a lower balcony.

"They're tryna surround you Faith. Punch through to the Plaza," Merc instructed her firmly. Several squad cars were waiting in the distance, their owners dotting the street like fervent ants. They had their arms raised, their glocks pointed mercilessly towards the girl that had leapt off the building and was now practically flying down the steep glass ceiling towards the ground level walkway. They released a barrage of bullets, careless of where they might land – they were shooting to kill. She ducked her head closer to her body as a bullet whizzed past her head and lodged itself in the glass she was sliding on. It jolted slightly beneath her, threatening to cave in at any moment. She slid off rapidly, amazed that she had managed to avoid it. It had dropped from the framework in the second she lifted her weight and shattered to the floor in a shower of glass.

Blues surrounded the raised walkway, letting round after round explode into the construction. She snarled, wanting to stop and chastise them, tell them that some poor taxpayer was throwing away their money so they could mindlessly and moronically spend bullets in a recently installed piece of architecture. Heck, if she wasn't going to have her head blown off into a few bloody pieces, she might've actually considered it.

"They're gonna cut you off ahead Faith! Get through 'em quick." Merc had given up on sitting down and had shoved his chair away from him, instead opting to tower over the computer monitor.

She vaulted over to the lower deck, her wounded arm buckling beneath her. Slipping, she landed roughly and tried to pull into a roll. It only made the pain worse.

"You gotta push through to the Plaza Faith," he urged her, hearing her yelp in pain. "There's a roof to the tunnel up ahead," he instructed her desperately, which only exacerbated his feelings of helplessness.

The Plaza loomed up ahead of her. She dashed between the mini-billboards and potted plants, practically tripping over the sleek steel benches. The entrance to the Plaza was sea-blue, and lit up so much it was blinding. She felt like she was going into an aquarium.

"Get some air into your lungs and run Faith."

She obliged, sucking in a deep breath as she stumbled further into the Plaza. Sections had been partially closed off with a mesh security gate. She slid down, feeling the cool tiles scrape against the sides of her thigh as she slipped beneath the gate. It had been an easy slide but she could hear the pounding of boots against the tiles not far behind her. She was tempted to turn around just to size up her opponents. It was as if Merc read her mind.

"You don't wanna know what's behind you Faith. Just keep runnin'."

She found herself in a red corridor now so that the blood on her fingers glowed a sick, luminescent pink. She ignored the sight, turning into another overwhelming, brightly lit corridor.

"Should be an exit on the rail overpass in the plaza ahead. Kreeg's headin' to the other side to get you out."

After racing breathlessly through a twisted maze of blue and red hallways, she finally spotted the exit. Natural light poured in like a breath of fresh air and she emerged from it, almost thankful.

"Be careful," Merc advised, sharpening her focus again.

She grit her teeth and narrowed her eyes, scanning the area ahead of her. Aggression coursed through her as she spotted a single cop approaching her with a raised pistol. She knit her brow angrily and raced directly towards him. He faltered, widening his eyes. He lowered his gun slightly, which gave Faith just the amount of space she needed. She grabbed him roughly by the ear, crushing it in her hand and laid into him with her free fist. He winced in pain and doubled over, right into her knee. His head snapped back awkwardly and he crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap. In one graceful swoop, Faith lifted his glock and spun on her heel, searching for his partner. He was easy to spot, standing there dumbfounded at what he had just seen. He was backing away from her as she raised the gun and let loose three precise bullets into his shoulder. She could almost hear it shatter from where she was standing. He howled in pain and fell to the floor, writhing. A sense of satisfaction flared up in her.

"Nice," Merc commented appreciatively. She didn't respond, instead sprinting towards a set of bright orange steps.

"Head up onto the rail overpass. It's the only way through," he said apologetically. She did it mechanically – she had used the overpass in a job before, though not quite under such tight circumstances. She climbed up onto the first level, spotting the familiar red ladder in the corner. Bullets were still flying insistently around her and there was the whir of a chopper nearby.

"You've almost lost them! Patching Kreeg in," Merc exclaimed. The comm. Link buzzed and Kreeg's smooth, light voice came in.

"Faith! Let's get you out of here," he said confidently. She stumbled onto the rail overpass, stretching her arms out for some balance. She found the chopper waiting for her, hovering dauntingly above the overpass, like a dark specter. The mounted machinegun had begun to twirl and was about to spit a metal stream towards her. She instinctively grabbed the long cable attached from the overpass and leapt off. The cable sagged under her weight as she zoomed to the opposite building. She let go, landing in a smooth roll that immediately propelled her over the railing towards an immense glass ceiling. Kreeg was waiting for her beneath, looking up at Faith incredulously. She crashed through the glass awkwardly, falling freefall towards the ground. It wasn't too far below, but the land still knocked the wind out of her. Her vision blurred over so when the chopper flew overhead, it looked like a big black blob. Kreeg rushed over, looking sleek and prepared as always. He waved his hand in front of her eyes, a small but worried smile playing on his lips.

"You okay?"

She said nothing. She couldn't really hear him. Everything sounded out of focus and slow. Kreeg grabbed her hand, glancing over her injuries and pulled her up.

"Come on, let's go." She jogged slowly after him, waiting for her vision to clear. It was taking a lot longer than usual.

"You did good Faith," Merc interjected calmly. She might've even gone as far to say, he was _proud. _

"No word on what's got the blues so trigger-happy, but I'll keep on it. And um…" he hesitated, his voice softening. "Don't worry 'bout your sis, okay? We'll fix it."

She wanted to believe him. Merc usually _did _fix things. She glanced down at her bloodied arms. Something about this situation seemed too big, too _out of control _to fix.

"I hope so," she muttered.

* * *

He was hunched over the tiny computer as usual, the earpiece buried deep in his ear and wires streaming chaotically around him.

"What the hell Merc!" she exclaimed loudly, throwing her hands up in frustration. He barely glanced at her, though his heart, unwillingly, thudded unevenly in his broad chest. He returned his focus to the screen, where a list of Blues communications was downloading rapidly.

"Somethin's got _somebody _rattled kiddo. I don't know what it is but they're mighty jittery," he conceded. She sighed, rubbing her eyes.

"No shit."

She turned as Celeste dropped into the AC. She glanced around her coolly before settling her eyes on Faith.

"Hey Cel," Merc greeted her lightly, still staring at the screen. She leant her arm on the tip of Merc's chair, brushing a few blonde hairs that fallen in front of her eyes.

"Take long to lose 'em?" Faith asked curiously. Celeste rolled her eyes.

"Nah," she drawled. "Those blues can't aim for shit."

Faith grinned at her nonchalance. Celeste always managed to keep a straight face. She collapsed onto the big red couch and pointed her fingers like she was holding a glock.

"They've gotten a little…_gun-happy _though."

Faith nodded, moving to sit beside the blonde.

"Wires are fizzing about Pope's murder. Blue traffic is up. _Way_ up. Don't know what's got into them. Must be contract renewal time," she scoffed, removing a crumpled scrap of paper from her back pocket. It was the slip she had removed from Pope's office.

"Be careful out there Cel," she finished, smoothing out the paper on her knee. Cel sighed, leaning back into the couch. She suddenly looked weary.

"So why all the heat?" she asked quietly. Merc got to his feet suddenly and began to pace the AC.

"Our girl's been liftin' evidence from a crime scene," he explained fondly. "Now every cop in the city seems to be after her." He stopped before Faith, looking down at her, concerned. Cel straightened up, her eyes wider now.

"That the evidence you lifted?" she asked, leaning forward. Faith lifted it up to the light, nodding.

"Yeah, I think it's from a diary. Rest of it was gone," she explained. Celeste took the paper from Faith's hand and brought it closer to examine it.

"All I can make out are…Icarus…maybe, and…to the highest."

Celeste frowned, bringing the paper just beneath her nose.

"Icarus," she murmured, crunching her face up. "Wasn't he the Greek guy?"

"Yeah. His dad made him some wings out of feathers and wax," Merc explained somberly as he peered out of the small gaps in the AC. The light that filtered through the slits cast odd, sharp slabs of shadow across his face as he glared out. The deep rumble of a chopper roared through the AC as it passed overhead.

"Then the boy flew too close to the sun…" he murmured softly. Faith was stunned by Merc's endless knowledge on pretty much _everything._

He watched the chopper as it flew off into the horizon, hovering just beneath the sun.

"And _sssssss" _The chopper had passed directly into the sun, blocking it from vision.

"…no more wings, no more Icarus," he finished thoughtfully. Then, as though suddenly snapping out of a reverie, he turned back to them.

"If anyone's heard anything, then you know who it'll be Faith," he said, though he was reluctant. She seemed as reluctant as him, because her face flushed a deep shade of red.

"Yeah?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"I know he ain't a runner any more," Merc conceded. "But he's got contacts. You can't avoid him forever." He said it confidently, even though inside, he would've preferred if she _did _avoid him forever.

"Wanna bet?" Faith purred. Merc grinned. Evidently, her distaste for him hadn't faded, and, as bad as it was, that gave him a whole heap of satisfaction to know.

"Who is it?" Celeste asked, confused.

"Jackknife."

_- - - - -- - -- - - -- - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Next chapter (Jackknife) should be up soon. I've been waiting for __a long time__ to write the Jackknife chapter because the relationship between him and Faith should be something interesting to toy around with. So what do y'all think? How does Faith feel about him now? All hate, or just a little bit of left-over affections? _


	7. The Thin Red Line

A.N: Once again, apologies for the late update. Thank you to all the reviewers – I really appreciate your comments – they keep me writing!

MichaelSaniyan – you're right about Celeste's line, which means my cross-referencing needs adjustment, and you have a very, very good memory haha.

I was hoping to make this chapter purely about Jackknife, but then I realised just how long it took Faith to even find him, so I had to put this one in. Jackknife comes in the next chapter, FINALLY.

Alright, enjoy reading! Reviews are always welcomed.

Disclaimer: I don't own Mirror's Edge.

The Thin Red Line

**Lower East Side, 11:01 am**

The weather was crisp and calm; no wind, visibility was good. She vaulted off the balcony into the grey alleyway.

"Drake's got a location on Jackknife."

She could sense the apprehension in Merc's voice, or maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.

"He's on some rooftops at the old runners' training ground near the storm drains."

She quickly scanned her surroundings for a fluid pathway.

"Route's _crawling _with Blues though..." He let his voice hang thick on that word and she could feel her skin almost tingling.

"You can follow the canals to the Hampton Town districts…get goin'."

Blues radio static was coming in over the comm. link. Merc was merciless in his monitoring.

"_City authorities are investigating the death of attorney and mayoral candidate Robert Pope, who was found shot dead in his office earlier. City officials have one suspect in custody…"_

Flinching slightly, she began moving lithely up a storm drain, though her mind poured on the words in her ears.

"- _and are currently searching for another… is believed to be a young woman…"_

The words faded into a monotonous buzz. She shifted her attention back to the path ahead of her, and the looming prospect of meeting the ex-runner.

A few moments of silence lay ahead of her she knew, and her mind was already reminiscing on what had gone before.

She didn't want to see Jackknife – that was the last thing she wanted to do. Even Merc knew it, considering they shared history. Merc was a good runner, but Jackknife was cunning in the way that Merc was, and is, loyal. It was obvious too, looking at the trajectory of their lives – Jackknife, constantly lost in the city, nothing but a sliver or a whisper on a rooftop, and Merc like a solid shadow of intent. She didn't like the trail of thought: it always ended the same. Comparisons were made and she realized infinitely that she rushed towards Merc just as she moved _away _from Jackknife. She shook her head, focusing on the monkey vault before her. What lay in the past could stay there, regardless of the meeting. She would make sure of that.

Faith had been so deeply immersed in her thoughts that the whirring of the chopper went almost unrecognised. It was only when she vaulted over the steel fence that she noted the large black shadow passing over the concrete and she shot her eyes upwards. Sure as day it hovered nearby and a tinny voice rung out between the buildings.

"_Suspect spotted!"_

Suddenly the sound was immense and her adrenaline was coursing through her as it did with her previous encounters with the Blues. Now it was all business.

She leapt down into the canals and pivoted on her heel rapidly, starkly aware that there was nothing shielding her from the turret attached to the metallic bird.

"_Stop where you are! You are in direct violation of city laws!"_

She hopped up on the other side of the canals and moved for the pockets hidden under rooftop. The chopper followed her frantically.

"They've spotted you, make a run for it."

She didn't have to think twice about Merc's words. She hopped over a small metal gating into the next section of the canals. Something whizzed past and lodged itself in the concrete near her.

"_You have been warned! Commence fire!"_

She was incredulous about the progression – a warning now became a ticket for the Blues to fire on citizens. She swallowed her anger and chased the canal towards its end. The bullets were coming in rapid bursts now, the turret emitting a high whirring between fire. She was starting to watch the red beams dancing on the ground around her – snipers.

"Ah shit," she muttered, bouncing behind a large pillar.

"Get out of those canals Faith."

An open doorway came into her view and she ducked her head down as she raced towards it. An eerie blue light shone out from within and a rat scurried past her feet as she flung herself into cover. She sucked in a few rapid breaths and continued on.

"_- wait for our officer to assist you!"_

Of course, 'assist' was the most appropriate word for it. She pulled her mind back to the storm drain she was leaping for. Her body collided into it with terrifying force, the coolness seeping through her clothes.

"Hand over hand," Merc murmured anxiously as she moved up. Light streamed in from an open vent in the ceiling. The metal grating sent jagged shafts of light across her balmy skin. It was a tight squeeze into the ventilation shaft and she only realized then how damn _warm _it was. When she finally emerged from the other side, she could hear the wailing sirens echo around the large storm drain.

"They've got you surrounded Faith, get into the storm drains!"

Car doors were being flung shut and the batter of feet on the concrete was unmistakeable. She clambered to the top of a cargo crate and leapt, rather blindly, onto a long slab of wood raised above the mouth of the storm drain.

"This is new," she muttered breathlessly as the wood tilted under her weight. She let her feet carry her to the next piece, a small gap between them scaled easily. The slab was metallic, and slippery, and it tilted under her sudden weight until she was sliding towards the storm drain. The chopper was still releasing a barrage of bullets that swung the piece of metal around wildly. She landed safely on an outcropping balcony built into the wall of the drain.

Below her, the gaping mouth sunk into shadowy darkness and she knew her safety lay down there. To get down there would be somewhat simple on a good day – the balconies continued every few metres in a spiralling fashion towards the bottom. All she had to do was wall run to the next, leap down and do the same. Which was fine and all, if it wasn't for the bullets sending little showers of concrete spraying about her. She swallowed what felt like her heart and wall ran to the next balcony. The bullets were spraying around her messily, which gave her a very tiny boost of confidence. She did another, until she was a level down. The chopper was now contending with the darkness and the drop. She wall ran again, and then vaulted onto the lower balcony.

"Bird's buggin' out – looks like you're in the clear."

She let a long breath out as she heard the whirring ease up. After another level of balconies, she slid down a storm drain to the bottom. It was illuminated by an unearthly green light and it contrasted sickly against the orange metal. Coupled with the dampness and the echo – she was feeling a little more nervous than usual.

She shuffled over to a panel lodged into the balcony railing – it was the emergency storm release. A large, daunting red button jutted out from the centre. She glanced up, trying to time how long it would take her to get in, considering she had noted the words, "15 seconds," and getting crushed didn't sound like a good idea.

"Alright, here goes…"

She slammed down the button and whirled around, wall running between the balconies. The air was heavy and she had a sudden paranoid thought she was being weighed down. The large gates had released and she could hear them thundering away as they lifted and began to count down…12…11…10…

Her breath was catching in her throat as she completed her final wall run. She vaulted off an advantageously propped ramp towards the opening, following the flash of green light from inside. The heavy doors had begun to close again and she prepared her body, namely her thighs, for the pain. She had gotten close enough so she moved into a slide, feeling the rough concrete rub uncomfortably against her pants, until the sensation turned to burning. She cursed as she rolled into the opening, the last gust of air pushing her in before the gates groaned shut. The air was dank and oppressive inside, and only a few dim spotlights lit up the drippy corners. After another storm release, this one less difficult to pass through, she stepped out into a cavernous, green tinged passageway.

"Got the drain plans…there should be an exit on the other side. Looks pretty high up."

She began to make her way up a slim ladder to a metal balcony. Echoes reverberated in the darkness, clanging and distant shuffling. She was hoping it was the rats. Just some average run-of-the-mill giant rats making some noise…

She was picking her way through the massive corridor, moving slowly along a balcony, when the familiar red slice of beam traipsed across the ground before her. She took in a sharp breath, freezing in her spot. The sniper hadn't noticed her yet, so she edged along slowly, moving as far as possible from the beam. A left turn took her away from the line of sight and although she focused ahead of her, her eyes darted back and forth warily.

The exit was looming up closer but the sound of movement was also near. She moved onto the next balcony, spotting the black outline of a SWAT team uniform. A sharp intake of breath and a second later, she had leapt onto the balcony and raced towards the sniper before he had a chance to move. She grabbed the gun and pushed it away from her, using her momentum to force him backwards. The cop's foot got caught in the railing and he stumbled to the floor, knocking his head on the metal. The two snipers on the railing ahead were focusing her in their scopes as she aimed and rapidly let off a magazine. The shots weren't precise, but it got the job done. The men collapsed to the ground, still moving for their guns. She had already begun moving again, spying a red zip line to the exit. She wrapped her hands around it, thankful for the new gloves protecting her already scarred hands. The space she had to traverse was slight, but in the time it took her, Blues had already begun to flood the ground beneath her, their bright searchlights scanning the area for her.

"They're inside! Get out of there Faith!"

She slipped into the maintenance shaft, hearing the freefall of water not far away. A small gap in the railing revealed a large decline, water gushing along it. She took a step back and started a run. On her final step, she jumped, pulling in a breath as she hit the water with a cold snap against her skin. She was pulled down the decline speedily and then her feet hit solid ground and the rush of water continued on beneath her. She hit the emergency gate release button and headed out into the other end of the drain pipe, feeling faint sunlight sieve in. The sound of the water was roaring in her ears and she had to struggle to pick out Merc's voice in her ear.

"This is Hampton Town Access Point. Jackknife ain't far."


	8. Jacknife

**A/N:** After realising that this fanfic is still being read and favourited (thank you!), I decided to update it. I hope my looong absence can be forgiven with this chapter XD Let me know what you think of Jacknife and any ideas of what might have happened between him and Faith. Happy reading!

**Disclaimer:** not affiliated with Mirror's Edge.

* * *

_"This is Hampton Town Access Point. Jacknife ain't far."_

The words produced only a slight glimmer of hope. She lifted her head, gazing up at the circle of blue sky encased by the mouth of the storm drain. The sound of water rushing past swallowed every other sound – even that of her blood thudding in her ears. She sucked in a deep breath, mentally prepping her muscles for the ascent. Several balconies lined the drain until the top, interspersed with red pipes. She launched into a run, leaping onto several planks of wood strung through the centre of the drain. The planks quivered as she landed, seesawing as she hopped from the end onto a balcony. As soon as she landed, she moved into a wall run, making for the pipe that would bring her closer to ground level. She hoisted herself up onto the next balcony, glancing around her for the next point of her route. It was a precarious climb, she knew, and a dark, watery death lay below. She put it out of her mind, forcing herself to focus on the way the sky became brighter and the air fresher the more she climbed.

Working methodically, she picked her way through the balconies and pipes until she reached the final balcony. It wasn't high enough though and she stood for a moment, gazing down into the drain and pondering the crane operating system in front of her. The idea dawned on her half formed and she jammed down the button, figuring out what she'd do as the crane jerked into action and the planks below began to rise up from the depth. She leapt off the balcony onto the planks before her, holding her arms out for balance as she waited for the next bundle to rise up. When it was almost level with the one she stood on, she jumped onto the bundle, knowing that this one would take her to the top.

She wanted to enjoy the success of completing such a challenging run in one piece, but the disco whirl of police car lights and the angry shout of officers shattered the moment. She hit the ground running, fleetingly thankful for the hard kiss of concrete on her shoes. Shipping containers were stacked up around the mouth of the drain forming a haphazard barrier between her and the shotgun wielding Blues. Intuitively, she paused behind one container, catching her breath and straining her ears. She could hear footsteps approaching – one officer – he was standing right around the corner. This was her moment. She burst out from behind the container, rushing at the cop who was too slow to the trigger – Faith jammed one foot into his chest, causing him to loosen his grip on the M3 pump-action, dropping it to the floor. She grabbed it swiftly, using the butt of the gun to knock him out. Another officer appeared, racing through the corridor formed by two containers to her left. Faith froze, knowing exactly what she had to do next but fearing it – she was too close to perform evasive manoeuvres – she was no expert, but she could imagine the M3's range included _her –_ and she was too far to disarm him safely. The comm. link was silent. She wished Merc would tell her what to do, or at least say _something. _She held her breath as she raised the shotgun, aiming for the officer's knee – painful, _real_ painful, but not fatal. The sound of the bullet tore through the air and silence ensued, heavy and ominous. The recoil of the gun was surprising, causing her to reflexively take half a step backwards. The officer shouted in pain, his voice echoing around the loading dock, doubling over and dropping his weapon. Blood was sluicing from his shattered kneecap and Faith felt a pang in her chest – fear, worry…guilt. She couldn't stifle it. She raced past him, trying not to let the weight of the shotgun slow her down. Movement was her only option. She couldn't stop to ponder what she had just done, reminding herself that she had done what was necessary. She spotted the entrance to the Callaghan Construction building ahead, together with the barbed fence that squared it in. The name rung familiar to her – Mayor Elaine Callaghan was CEO of the massive construction company responsible for so many construction projects in the City.

She surprised one cop standing between two loading trucks, knocking him unconscious with the butt of the shotgun. Dropping the heavy gun, she raced to the blue truck parked beside the fence. It was the perfect platform. Scaling the side, she launched over the barbed wire, feeling the air zigzag between the barbs beneath her. She landed roughly, gritting her teeth as she focused her eyes on the entrance. Jacknife was close – very close.

The walls of the corridor inside were painted a nuclear green. The colour was garish and strained her eyes. She spotted an elevator at the end of the corridor and sighed in relief – a moment to rest. As the doors slid open, the comm. link crackled to life.

"Look, Jacknife may know something about Pope's murder, so don't let him wind you up okay. He used to be a pretty decent runner," (this last comment was said reluctantly, Faith noted.) "God knows who he's working for now."

She bit her lip, feeling the anxiety grow worse. Merc was right – Jacknife would try to wind her up, and that's what she dreaded. The elevator doors opened, revealing a short corridor. She walked out slowly, running over in her mind what she would say to him. She hadn't seen him in a long time and she hated that that would change now. The memories of him, vivid and alive, were enough – she remembered everything about him, from the first moment she laid eyes on him years ago. She was young, fresh to the game, impressionable…Now his face was flashing in her mind: the curve of his jaw, the way his tattoos crept up from his chest onto his neck, the smirk of his lips and the slant of his eyes…

She coughed, suddenly embarrassed with herself. The comm. link was suspiciously silent and she realised she hadn't responded to Merc.

"Right…going out onto the roof now."

"Got it," he said quickly, his voice strained. Faith noted absently that Merc sounded as nervous as she felt. She wanted to smile, but couldn't. She felt overwhelmed. She approached the door to the roof, pushing it open slowly, the cool of the air rushing in hungrily. As it swung open, she saw _him _standing on the edge of the building, the teal of his shirt as bright as the sky. He was grinning, like a wolf, as always, and his spiky hair didn't help the image.

"Hello Faith," he drawled, his voice smooth and controlled. Then in a flash, he pivoted expertly on his heel and raced away, grabbing hold of a zip line and launching off the edge of the roof. Her heart was in her throat as she followed him– she couldn't stop to consider how much she hated using zip lines and how high up she was and how crazy it all was – she just had to follow, to keep up with the task at hand. She followed him onto the next roof, sliding under a pipe that stood in her way. He had already launched onto the next roof and was moving into a roll. He moved like water, graceful and smooth. He was playing with her, she knew, like a cat with a mouse. She could picture his smirk as he fluidly monkey vaulted over obstacles. She raced after him for what felt like an eternity, hopping from roof to roof until her muscles screamed for respite, though he showed no signs of slowing, or fatiguing.

"Damn it," she hissed as he grabbed another zip line. She reached it seconds later, feeling the air whip violently in her short hair. Landing roughly on the roof, she heard Merc's anxious voice:

"Faith, you're losing him!"

He was right – she couldn't see him any more, though she had memorised his steps. She raced down towards an entrance to the building he had slipped through moments earlier. As she sped down the hallway, she was confronted by two elevators, one whose doors were sliding closed. Jacknife was inside, his grin so wide it infuriated her. He was waving too as the door shut. She growled angrily, hopping into the next elevator.

The trip up felt so slow she was sure he had already escaped. But when she burst out the door onto the roof, he was there. She caught his eye for a second before he had started running again, making for a ramp. She set off after him but felt like she was lagging behind – her muscles were filling with acid and her lungs felt like they were going to burst.  
"Come on Faith," Merc whispered. She pumped her feet harder, watching Jacknife launch off the ramp. She stopped at the edge in time – he made to grab for a pole that hung down, but was too heavy, toppling the pole and landing in a heap on the roof. Faith felt her heart stop. Jacknife wasn't moving – he was just lying there.

She turned to her left, knowing she would have to take the long way around, though the idea of leaving him lying there, possibly severely injured, nagged at her. The trip took a few minutes – she knew she couldn't rush it and make a mistake like he did. When she had finally rounded her way to him, he was getting to his feet, the cocky expression still plastered to his face. A mixture of relief and regret bubbled up in her.

"I know what you're here for Faith," he said, smiling widely, his eyes dancing, the innuendo dripping from his words. She grit her teeth, wondering how she had ever found him bearable, let alone likeable…

"Just tell me what Icarus has to do with Pope's murder Jack," she demanded, her voice rising. He scoffed, shuffling restlessly on his feet.

"I heard a cop did it."

"You heard wrong."

His expression hardened now and the passage of years was clear on his face.

"You a wrestling fan Faith?" he asked nonchalantly, glancing around. She didn't respond, wary as he hopped onto the edge of the roof.

"Pope was a wrestling fan. He even employed an ex-wrestler to handle his security." He had turned to face her, the black of his jacket contrasting with the orange billboard behind him that read _Burfield._

"Travis Burfield," he said, motioning grandly with his hand to the sign, "Used to go by the name of Ropeburn."

She was getting impatient, feeling disoriented with the information he was providing.

"Is this going somewhere?"

"Ropeburn…well he's really just a thug who got lucky." Jacknife hopped off the edge of the roof and sauntered back towards her. "Sometimes people are too ignorant to see their place." His voice had become menacing. "Always want to swim in the big pond, never see the bigger fish." He was staring intently at her now and her heart thudded unevenly. "If I were you, I'd start with that glorified slab of meat." He leant a little closer, brushing his hand along her arm. "Happy hunting Faithy." The mention of the old nickname stung her, letting loose a flood of memories. She suddenly felt unsafe. He saluted her with a grin and jogged off. The sound of Merc's voice in her ear drew her back, like a warm drink in the cold.

"Listen I don't know about going to Ropeburn straight away." He sounded worried.

"I'm not," Faith said slowly. "I'm gonna see Miller."

"Ah Faith, what are ya doin'? You gonna tell him about Jacknife?"

"Not yet. He's still a cop. No matter what Kate says." The fact that her loyalty still lay with Jacknife, an ex-runner, bothered her. But she knew at that moment she had no choice. He was still one of them.

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r+r


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